Shield: Origin
by Mattycollns13
Summary: Superhero AU part 2: The Shield came about in a flash, but they fell apart in slow motion. This is the sequel to Four Horsewomen Orgins.
1. Prologue

Dean smiled as Becky, still in costume, burst into Cactus Jack's with Jeff, just freshly returned to his normal self, came in right behind her. He had some stuff to finish at the bar, and had let them both go out without him tonight. Given that they were here now, he assumed they hadn't died without him, but vigilante life could be weird so he wasn't going to vocalize his assumptions. Sami had come in to tell him that he had a date that night and Dean said he would cover him. Sami was incredibly grateful, but he'd been a good employee and a great friend so Dean felt he'd deserved the night off for some fun.

Becky, whom sat down at the bar with Jeff taking the seat on her left, interrupted his thoughts. Dean grinned at them. "Oh teammates of mine, you come back victorious to drink and revel?"

Becky scrunched her face up at his fake accent. "Ew, don't talk like that. But yeah, we kicked ass. Just dropped them off at the station for the cops to take care of, and now I want to drink!" She looked around, expecting some of the regulars to cheer, but frowned when she saw that the bar was empty. Dean was used to Becky and could read her facial queues pretty well; living together for three months does that to you.

Jeff hummed as he also looked around, "Not a lot of business tonight. I know it's a Monday, but still."

That was just Jeff. When he wasn't Willow he was a quiet artist who owned his own art gallery downtown. He only added to a conversation when he felt it was necessary, which worked well with the way he and Becky would banter constantly. He was there to guide them, and they were there to guide Willow.

Dean chuckled, pulling out both their favorite brands of beer, sticking with bottles since he had just cleaned the taps. "I don't mind. I have enough money to keep it open for ages, no matter the amount of business. But I won't complain about just the three of us drinking."

Becky tapped the lip of her bottle against her goggles. "Three best friends, getting drunk after a hard nights work. Nothing better than that." She took a long gulp of her beer and spun her chair completely around, hitting Jeff with her foot as he quietly rolled his eyes.

"You know Becky, we don't have to get drunk every time we drink." Jeff took a sip as he watched Becky and Dean continue to banter.

She snorted, "I don't know about you, pretty boy, but I don't drink unless I'm getting wasted."

He gave her a smile, his own drink going smoothly down his throat, "Aw, you think I'm pretty?"

When Becky didn't respond, Dean followed her gaze, and felt his heart beat a little faster as he recognized the picture she was staring at. He cleared his throat, "You know you can ask, if you want. My dad kept pictures everywhere for the stories and I ain't gonna ruin that tradition. We've known each other long enough anyhow."

This had caught Jeff's attention and he looked at Dean. "I know the big Samoan guy. He's Roman Reigns. He's part of the Sentinels and has super strength and flight. I didn't know that you knew him."

Dean walked over and gingerly picked the picture up, careful not to move the nail that held it to the dingy wall. His eyes scanned over the picture, as they had for years now, looking at each face. He brought it over so Becky and Jeff could get a better look.

He felt incredibly self-conscious as they examined the five faces in the photo. This wasn't like him showing them embarrassing photos from middle school, which didn't exist in the first place, this was what his life used to be, and this was him letting them in. No holding back. Full disclosure.

Becky looked up and gave him a serious look. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to Dean. We've only been a team for three months, if that's too soon…"

Dean shook his head, "Nah, I'll be fine. It's time you heard my tragic origin story, especially since I was there for both of yours. Might get a little emotional, but no ones here and no one is gonna believe you if you said I cried."

She smiled at him and Jeff winced as he thought of his own "origin story", but they soon turned back to the picture. Dean went ahead and took the first step himself, pointing at each person in turn. "That's me, obviously, and then Roman. That guy with the blonde streak is Seth Rollins, and the blonde that I'm hanging all over is Renee. The guy in the back with the beard and the goofy toothless smile is Cactus Jack himself."

Jeff looked surprised, "I just thought that was the name of the bar."

He shook his head, his hair shifting along his forehead. "Nah, it was a nickname that Mick had back in the day from when he was still fighting for money." Dean pointed above his head where Mick's old barbed wire baseball bat was hung up in a place of glory. "He used to use that and he got the name."

Becky whistled appreciatively as she looked at the baseball bat. "That'll do some damage."

Jeff snickered, turning both of their attentions back to the framed photo. "Wow, Dean, you look like such a little kid in this."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, get it all out of your system now, Hardy."

Becky pinched his cheek, much to his irritation, calling him a cute kid. He glared at her, "You want to hear this story or not?"

She sat back and took another sip of her beer, gesturing for him to begin. Jeff settled in as well, his eyes calmly staring Dean down, but they felt soft and non judgmental.

Dean picked the picture back up, his eyes lingering a little more on Renee than he meant to and sighed. "Okay, so I have to start at the very beginning when I was a kid…"


	2. Chapter 1

Dean never knew where his next meal was coming from. Whether it was swiping a hot dog from stupid tourists, or a shopkeeper feeling sorry for him; there were several in the area who knew his face and were nice enough to give him leftovers. It had been tough when his mom died, and not having any relatives, god only knows where his dad was, Dean was immediately put into the foster care system. However, Dean wouldn't describe his attitude as very conducive to the nuclear family model, so he wound up waiting for a family that would never come, and watched any friend he tried to make be adopted and never to be seen again. It grew like an annoying itch under his skin and at ten years old he'd had enough. He broke the window of his second floor room and used his bed sheet to get him most of the way down and jumped the rest of the way. He knew no one would miss him anyway.

Since then, he'd been scrounging for money and food, and usually went without on most days, choosing to spend most of his day trying to find decent shelter, especially difficult now that it was winter and snow was beginning to fall. Usually he'd find a store or restaurant and camp out there as long as he could until they kicked him out and then he'd huddle to himself, only clutching his jacket that was about two sizes too small now. He'd been having an especially trying time today on finding a new place to camp out. The last place had been his, but he was a ten-year-old boy, when a much older, much stronger homeless man came along and claimed his spot, there wasn't too much Dean could do but flip him the bird and walk off. Now he was in a part of the city that he didn't recognize he hoped he'd be able to locate a bridge or at least an alley that could break the wind that was picking up, as it got closer to dusk.

He saw a particular alley, only catching his attention due to the soft glow coming from within it. If he were lucky it'd be a group of bums with a trashcan fire. It's the only company or social thing that he did, knowing it would be accepted for him to be there sharing the warmth. He pushed his bangs off his forehead and frowned. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror in months, probably didn't look too hot, though, he'd always wanted slightly longer hair than he was allowed to grow it out at the foster care places he'd been. Had to look presentable with each new family, which meant a haircut to look like the son of a businessman or some little twat like that.

He looked both ways across the street, a morbid joke coming to his mind, thinking that if he didn't look and got hit by a bus that all his problems would be solved. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and focused on not dying and getting warm. He moved towards the alley ducking into and frowning when he saw the light was so powerful it was coming from around the corner. Either this was the biggest trashcan fire that had been constructed, or Dean was on to something more than what he'd originally thought. He cautiously made his way closer and peaked around the corner, seeing no one, but he did find out what the light was as a flickering sign told him he was in the presence of a bar and cantina named Cactus Jack's.

He blinked, about to turn back, when the door opened, letting two men walk out, laughing. That's when the smell hit him. He'd never been in a bar before, and always expected it to smell grimy and disgusting, this one particularly so if the outside was anything to go by. But instead all he smelled was greasy burgers and chicken and he couldn't stop his stomach from sounding loudly and painfully. He bit his lip. He was ten and looked nowhere close to a teenager, let alone a twenty one year old. Would they let him in, or even stay for a while just to get out of the cold. He decided it was worth a try, and maybe someone would buy him something. He always remembered in movies, from before his mom died, that people bought things for each other at bars. Then again, those were usually sleazy guys buying for pretty girls, but his hair was getting long, maybe he'd pass for something that caused pity to get some food.

He pulled open the door, trying to look confident so they wouldn't immediately kick him out. He didn't look at anyone, simply located a booth in the corner and slipped into it, staring straight ahead. The warmness was already a drastic improvement over the way he'd been outside and he sank into the seat gratefully. He let his eyes travel, though never near the face of another person, and saw several crappy TVs locked onto sports channels and news channels. He vaguely saw one with a reporter talking to John Cena, the hero of the Sentinels probably having helped an old lady across the street or something. Dean scoffed and ran a hand through his greasy hair and closed his eyes, just letting the swirling conversations lull him out of his mindset and relax. That was, until a voice broke through his haze, making his head snap to the end of the table.

"Well, what creative excuse do you have, kid? Must have a really good fake to be in here."

Dean gazed at the man, not sure what to think. He had long, dark, curly hair that was a mess, almost as much as he grey streaked beard. His eyes did seem to twinkle, and his cheeks were as rosy as Dean imagined Santa's was when he used to believe in that sort of thing. Dean didn't know what to say, so he just looked down.

"You gonna kick me out?"

The man tilted his head and seemed to look over Dean for a moment before jerking his thumb over his shoulder, Dean already moving out of his seat towards the door, but stalled when the man spoke. "Bathroom is by the bar there. Run some water through that hair and wash your hands and face. I'll save your seat, though it'll cost you the price of some company by this old man."

Dean turned his head, measuring the man and testing the truth of his words. When he saw the man smile through his beard, Dean decided to see where this went. It really could only get better, so what the hell did he have to lose. He went through the door that indicated that this was the men's room and took a second to look in the mirror and was immediately bombarded by two warring emotions. He did not look good. His face was becoming pale and gaunt, and his clothes hung off of him, but for his jacket, which was still too small. The positive part was that his hair did in fact look pretty good long. Dean gave himself a rueful smile in the mirror at the thought, gotta enjoy the little things. He turned the faucet on and first ran his hands through it with soap and sighed at the feeling of being clean for the first time in months, even if it was just his hands for now. After this task was done and ran water and soap on his face and felt so much better than he gave himself a genuine smile in the mirror. For when it was time for the hair he simply dunked his head under the warm running water and watched as gunk went down the drain. After he'd run his hands through his bangs several times and held a couple paper towels to it, he pushed open the door and made his way back to his table.

Like the man had promised he was sat at the table, on the opposite side of where Dean had been sitting, though apparently he had gone to get something, because there was two plates sitting there, one containing a juicy and greasy burger, and the other a plate of chicken fingers. Dean's nose basically carried him back to the table and he slid in, his eyes flickering to the man before going back to the food. He heard his warm voice speak up from across the table.

"Well, I didn't get these for me, I don't need the extra pounds. Why don't you polish those off for me."

It was too good an opportunity for Dean to pass up and he immediately stuffed a chicken finger into his mouth, not caring how hot it was and let his stomach have it's first soothing sustenance in days. It grumbled in thanks and he continued to eat, starting with the chicken before going equally as quick on the burger. The man simply sat and watched him while he ate, apparently realizing that talking to him wouldn't be very helpful with his mouth full.

He sat back, as he finished his meal; his stomach finally sated and sighed contentedly. The man shifted, causing Dean to go upright again, but he was simply adjusting himself in his seat. "So, were you outside my bar hoping to sneak in and get a drink? Your parents never let you drink at home?" His eyes were still locked on Dean's and Dean found he couldn't look away.

"They'll be expecting me." Is all Dean could say, because no way was he telling a guy he didn't know that he didn't have anyone. That would be dangerous. The man's eyebrow rose and he lifted up the side of his hair, showing a mangled piece of skin that used to be an ear. Apparently Dean made a face because the guy chuckled.

"My ear may be in shambles, and I might not walk as fast as I used to, but I ain't stupid. You're homeless."

Dean flinched at how blasé he was about it, though he secretly appreciated it. He didn't want to sit here for three more hours while they beat around a bush. He gave the man a challenging look. "That a problem?"

The guy chuckled again. What was with all the chuckling? Nobody was this jovial. "Not a problem at all. You can stick around, as long as you want. I can have the kitchen whip you up some more food. At least, until I send Mr. Whipwreck home for the night at closing time."

Dean felt his eyebrows steadily rise into his hairline. "Why? What do you want from me?"

The man simply smiled. "A name would be good to start."

He didn't know why he felt like he should tell him, but the man did feed him. Dean didn't like to feel like he owed people. "Dean. Dean Ambrose."

The man nodded. "It is good to meet you Dean. My name's Mick, but around here they call me Cactus Jack. Or just Cactus if you like."

Dean remembered the sign out front and quirked and eyebrow. "You own this place?"

For the first time Mick seems to be thrown off. "Yes, why?"

Dean let a small smirk creep onto his face. "Good. I'd hate for you to get fired cause you gave free food to a little homeless boy."

Mick's eyes crinkled as he laughed, his head throwing back, and Dean was struck again by how similar Mick was to his vision of Santa Claus. After Mick had settled down he smiled at Dean. "Like I said, you're welcome here till closing time. Everyday. Can't let you drink though, that's where I draw the line."

Dean shrugged, he didn't want to drink that much anyway. "That's fair. But why are you helping me?"

"Because, whether you know it or not, or want to admit it or not, you need help." Dean didn't even argue, because he did need help. There is no way he can keep living the way he is through the winter months. "And, because I'm offering you a chance, Dean."

"A chance at what?" Dean couldn't help it; he was curious what the kind older man was offering.

"Well, that's up to you. I can't let you eat for free. I'm not a rich man, but you come here and you wash dishes for me, I'll feed you three square meals a day and get you out of the cold." Dean felt surprised yet again, that was the best offer he'd had since he still had a mom. Mick opened his mouth like he wanted to continue, but snapped his jaw shut.

"What? You were gonna continue." Mick sighed and pointed over to a door, next to the bar.

"That leads upstairs. It's a two-bedroom apartment. I'm only using one. If you ever feel like you trust me enough to take me up on that, just knock on the door."

Dean stared at him, analyzing him for what felt like the millionth time. "What's the catch, old man?"

Mick shrugged sheepishly. "If you do that, you have to go to school. I'm talking high school. You'll have a job here, money to spend then and a chance to work your way out of your situation and eventually I'll have to sign paperwork declaring me your guardian."

Dean had to really think for a second. This was all moving so fast and it was all seeming too good. "Did you slip something in my food? No way anyone is that nice."

Cactus shrugged. "It's almost Christmas."

He bit his tongue from saying something that probably wouldn't be appreciated. He sat there in silence, just wondering what to do. He needed to know this guy better so he could choose if the risk was worth the reward. This guy could be a serial killer and Dean didn't want to go out like that. Personal question time. "How'd you lose your ear?"

Mick smiled, sheepishly, looking every bit the sweet old man he was. "I used to be a lot like you, Dean. Didn't have much and I didn't have offers like this given to me. I had to make money in difficult ways. I chose an underground, no holds barred, fighting ring." He gestured up to a barbed wire baseball bat, hung over the bar in a place of honor. "That's how I made my fortune. Winning through all costs. And one of those fights cost me my ear."

Dean looked at the old man with surprise. He was way too nice for that to be his story. People with lives like that became jaded and horrible people. The evidence was right there over the bar; however, and now Dean was really beginning to hope against hope that he'd found someone who got it. Before he could second-guess himself he spoke, as if the offer would be retracted any second. "Yes."

"Yes to what?"

"All of it. I'll go to school. I'll work here. I'll live with you. Just don't screw me over… Mick."

The man smiled and squirmed out of the booth. He waited for Dean to do the same. "Let me show you where you'll be staying. We will get you settled tonight, and you can start work tomorrow after we get you a couple sets of clothes and enrolled for school."

Dean followed Mick over to the door he mentioned that led to the upstairs and took a deep breath before he nodded and let Mick open it. Time to nut up or shut up.

The last five years living at Mick's had been the best decision Dean ever made and he can't believe he's where he is now. He's fifteen, working in the kitchen at Cactus Jack's every night and going to school in the day. Today is his first day of high school and he can barely contain himself from fidgeting. Mick had done so much dealing with his moody Middle School self and helping him with homework and teaching him how things should be done. Mick was easily his favorite person in the world; the only close second was a bartender downstairs that they called The Sandman. Dean thought he was hilarious and laughed at all his stories.

He adjusted the flannel nervously waiting for the bus. It wasn't cold enough for his leather jacket, but he'd decided a long time ago that flannel was the most comfortable type of shirts, proven by Mick and his vast array of colored flannels. Look at him, five years living with someone and he's already dressing like him while waiting for the stupid school bus to take him to the new high school building full of people he didn't know half as well as he should, or at all.

Finally the bus pulled around the corner and made it's way to him. He pushed himself up the steps and looked around, seeing a ton of seats full and his mind went blank on what to do. He didn't know any of these people, and god knows who would let him sit with them. He took one step before the bus driver decided it would be a good idea to gun it. He fell, rather ungracefully and bounced against a few seats, his butt miraculously landing in an open space. He glared up at the bus driver, though the man couldn't see that, before a voice made him pause.

"So I'm guessing if I asked you if you've had a great fall, that wouldn't go over very well, would it?" He turned and all his mind could think to say was "pretty girl" in big, blinking letters. She was blonde, it was cut short, just past her chin and she was smiling at him. "Hi, I'm Renee."

"Uh, Dean." He mentally slapped himself. Brilliant, you fucking idiot. "Sorry for falling into your lap."

She waved him off, "There's worse ways to meet someone. I'm just glad that you look as lost as I feel. Maybe fate just decided to have us meet so we know at least one person at the school that we know. I kinda just moved from Canada."

Dean felt himself grinning. "Yeah, me too." Then his eyes widened. "I mean, not moving from Canada, just new to the school. Never been to the high school building before."

She snickered at his slip up and Dean could only think about how cute of a smile she had. "Well, I could tell you weren't Canadian immediately, though you're doing a pretty good job trying to blend in with the flannel. You just forgot to say "eh". "

Dean smirked. "How do I know you aren't a fake Canadian? You haven't said that since we met… five minutes ago."

She raised an eyebrow at him challengingly and Dean couldn't help the little flutter in his stomach. God, he sounded like a romance novel. "Are you telling me how to be Canadian?"

He grinned, "Nah, as long as you show me your moose later."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Funnily enough, that's a pick up line where I'm from."

Dean flushed, "R-really?" God help him if he just asked her out without knowing.

She grinned. "No, but it's never too early to get a homecoming date." It was easy to tell she was enjoying his discomfort so as an after thought, "Or a regular date for that matter."

Dean smiled, this woman already so endearing and his embarrassment fading away due to her simple easiness. "You don't hear me denying anything over here. I'd be more than happy with either."

It was her turn to flush slightly, but she simply smiled and opened her mouth to respond but the bus came to a stop. Dean had never been more frustrated at a bus so often in one day. He filed out, her right in front of him, peering over her shoulder. She waited for him to get off after her and began to walk with him up the steps of the school. "How about for our first date, you sit with me at lunch, and then we can talk?"

Dean nodded quickly. "Yes- I mean, I'm down for that."

Renee smiled back at him. "Perfect. See you around, Dean." She adopted a teasing glint in her eye as she added, probably just to make him laugh. "Eh."

He cracked a smile, which seemed to please her as she spun and began to make her way up to the rest of the steps, presumably to her first class. He couldn't resist shouting after her. "I'll be sure to wait a couple days before asking about your moose again!"

The loud cackle he heard before the closing door cut it off set him in a great mood for the rest of the day. And lunch only elated him further until he was washing dishes; sweat dripping down his face, still with the same dopey smile. His thoughts of the blonde were interrupted when Mick waddled back through the door, with his bad hip, and gave him a weird look. "What's got you in such a good mood? Good first day?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, best school day ever. Made a… friend. She's coming over this weekend. I assume that's okay?"

"And miss my chance to embarrass you in front of her? Not a chance, kid."

Dean scowled at him, though he didn't mean it too harshly. He'd embarrassed himself in front of Renee today more than Mick had evidence of. If she was still into him after today there was nothing the old man could do about it. "Well you might need to invest in a camera then, since you'll be the sappy parental guardian and take photos when I take her to homecoming."

Mick stroked his beard and nodded. "That's not a bad idea. A couple pictures would liven this place up."

Renee giggled happily, as she pulled another photo off from behind the bar. "Our homecoming picture. I love looking at this one." Dean smirked from where he was washing a glass, now as a full time bartender at twenty years old.

"Is it weird for me to still think you're hot in that photo?"

Renee scrunched her face up, walking back over to where her textbook for college was still open at the bar. She had been studying tonight as Dean worked, knowing that it was a slow night and rather quiet at the little dive bar. Plus, she was almost always over with Dean at the bar these days, having been dating five years kind of did that to you. "A little?" It sounded like she was rather unsure herself. "But I mean, that's getting into iffy territory. I guess if we'd never met back then, that would be rather creepy, but we did so you've seen me grow up from this."

Dean nodded. "Good point. So, your last tests of the semester coming up. My girlfriend will be a college graduate soon. That's pretty sexy, if I do say so myself."

She rolled her eyes, though that didn't take away from how her cheeks blushed. "Shut up. I'll finally be working full time and then we can start saving for stuff together and I can come in here and have my boyfriend get me beer after a hard days work."

"You really have the life don't you?" He asked her dryly.

She grinned, putting her hands behind her head and leaning back, like she was lounging on some royal couch. "You know, I can't really complain." Then she shot up, "Gotta use the little girl's room, don't spill beer on my textbook."

"That was one time!" he shouted after her. He turned back and looked over the glasses again to make sure he didn't miss one before throwing the towel over his shoulder. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head to Mick. "Hey, you're getting all ninja-like old man. I didn't even hear your bones squeak."

Mick laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder, though he didn't dignify this snark with a response. "So, you got it?"

Dean looked towards the bathroom to make sure Renee wasn't coming out anytime soon. "Yeah. They still had the one I wanted and saved up for." He pulled a small black ring box from his back pocket. He opened it to show a modest engagement ring, but it was what he had saved up for cause he knew Renee would love it. "I can't wait and keeping the secret is killing me."

Mick smiled and clapped him on the shoulder again. "Don't worry. You've only got several more days and then she graduates and that's when you are planning it right?"

Dean nodded and calmed himself. "Yeah, she won't expect it and then we can start planning the wedding. If she says yes."

Mick gave him a withering look. "Don't you dare say that. She's going to say yes. Just focus on not losing it."

He gave him a smile. "I'll try. This never would have been possible without you, Mick. You took me in and now I've got a job and will soon have a fiancé."

Mick gave him the ol' Cactus grin. "You got here yourself, taking risks, and being yourself. Now, go get the girl and make your happy ending, kid."

Dean didn't know how it could be four in the morning and him not be tired. He generally liked his sleep, so him being up this late was strange. But with Renee, who was still looking at the ring on her finger, and clutching her diploma to her chest, not knowing which one to pay attention to first, and Mick wiping the bar down having pinned a picture of Dean proposing to Renee up on the wall behind the bar, Dean couldn't help but think that this was his happy ending and that those months of clawing and scratching had been worth it for even an ounce of what he had now.

He watched silently as Mick and Renee talked happily back and forth, talking about everything. In the time they had been dating, Mick and Renee had grown as close as could be. Renee thought he was the sweetest old man, especially after hearing Dean's story and how they came to be living together. She always greeted him with respect and kindness, though the ever-present illumination of her humor was ever present. Mick thought of her as a daughter, and now she sort of would be by law. Dean didn't say anything to disturb their discussion, he just pulled Renee in closer, kissing the side of her head, and smiled at Mick, looking at all the pictures of the three of them through the years and finding he was just perfect where he was.

It was only foolish of him to assume it was the end and not just a rest period of happiness before life got hard again. And it all started six months after he proposed because they ran out of milk late and he just wanted a damn bowl of cereal.


	3. Chapter 2

"Are you for real right now?" Dean felt a little satisfaction that Renee had frozen, spoon halfway to her lips full of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. "That's the last bowl of my cereal."

Renee had the decency to look sheepish. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd wake up and figured that we could go to the store tomorrow."

Dean sighed, "I have a great need of that right now. You don't mess with a man's cereal."

Renee pouted, "But babe, I was hungry." Dean knew he couldn't resist it, but he tried for all of three seconds before sighing.

"Just cause you look good in my shirt." He grinned at her, retreating back to his (their) bedroom to grab a shirt to throw on over his shorts. It was rather warm outside, and Dean figured he would head down to the gas station two blocks away and come back for some early morning cereal and cuddling with his fiancé. What better way to start the day is there? He leaned down and kissed her, tasting his favorite cereal on her lips, and winked. "Heading down to the gas station for some more and I'll be back in twenty. Turn some infomercials on or something and we'll chill until I have to go to work."

Renee beamed and grinned, mouth still full. She tried to say something though it came off as a muffled mess of words. Dean could still understand her though, props of dating for so long. "Yeah, I love you too, weirdo."

He was out the door and still couldn't wipe the affectionate smile off his face. It only shifted when he opened the outside door of the bar, turning to lock it behind him and hit the wall of heat that came with the city summer. He rolled his neck and grunted at the stiffness there. He and Renee weren't the best sleepers, either too hot or too cold, or would jolt awake at the smallest indication of noise change in the city backdrop. So nights like these weren't uncommon and Dean actually looked forward to them. There was something about the lazy morning start with Renee that just always sat right with him.

He grunted and turned the corner onto the street and stopped in his tracks. Right in front of him, on the otherwise deserted street were two men, kicking and punching at a curled up figure on the ground. Dean didn't even really think about it and sprinted forward, landing a solid blow to the back of the head of one of the men, causing him to stumble forward and off the man they were attacking. The other man seemed surprised to be jumped himself and couldn't turn around completely before Dean shoulder tackled him and he too was knocked away from the defenseless man.

"Yeah you little bitches want someone who'll fight back?" Dean had been in a ton of scraps as a kid and had no problem helping these guys fuck off. They seemed to regain their bearings, though the one he struck in the head seemed to still be a little woozy. They looked at one another before sprinting down the street and out of sight. Dean waited a minute before bending down to the groaning ball of leather. "Yo, man, you alight?"

"I'll live." It grunted back at him, taking Dean's offered hand and trying to pull himself up, having to grip the wall while he got his bearings together. "Thanks for the help. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up. They just attacked me out of nowhere."

Dean looked at the man, trying to take in his injuries. The shaved side of his head, looked like the man himself had done it, so they hadn't scalped him, but his bloody lip, nose, and probably black eyes didn't look too good. "I'm Dean. You need an escort home?"

"Sami Calihan. Nah, my place isn't too far from here. If I move quickly I can get there safe. Thanks for the offer. Why're you out so late?"

Dean gave him a rueful smile. "Gas station for the cereal. When you got a craving, y'know?"

Sami chuckled, though it seemed to cause him pain. "Much respect. Thanks again, Dean. Hopefully I'll get to thank you sometime when I'm not feeling like I got run over by a bus."

Dean grinned and barely refrained from clapping him on the shoulder. "Cactus Jack's. I'm a bartender. I'll give you one on the house next time you're in."

Sami gave him a bloody grin and stumbled off. Dean waited several seconds until the man turned and opened a door, most likely his own apartment, and disappeared inside. Then Dean returned to his weird quest for cereal, turning the corner and catching sight of the gas station and grinning. Renee was waiting; let's hurry this up.

After paying for the small box of cereal and thanking the tired looking employee, Dean set off for his apartment once again, wondering how he was going to explain the slightly bloody knuckles to his fiancé when he felt the fist connect with his kidney, immediately making his back seize up in pain. Then, he didn't know anything because an object, he was pretty sure was a brick, made contact with the back of his head and all he knew was darkness.

Well that was, until he woke up strapped to a gurney, just not in the good way, like a hospital. It was more in the creepy way, like an underground bunker. He turned his head, barley able to because of the leather straps around his forehead, but he was able to make out a couple other gurneys near him, both occupied. He could only tell that the occupants were males, but no distinctive features stood out. It was weird, he should be freaking out, but his mind somehow was only on how pissed Renee was going to be and how he still didn't have his goddamn cereal.

"Well, you're the first one awake tonight. Lucky you." Dean felt himself strain unsuccessfully against the restraints and sigh.

"Y'know, consent is a thing. Also, you didn't happen to grab my cereal too when you grabbed me did you? That's the whole reason I was out and I'd hate for it to be in vain."

"At least you'll be entertaining. I'm going to be Frank with you, Mr. Ambrose-"

"Are you Roger with everyone else?"

"I'm Randy to everyone else." As he said this a man, with really badass tattoos up and down his arms and a buzz cut stood above Dean, looking completely at ease.

"Well shit."

He saw Randy raise an eyebrow, "You got a problem with my name?"

Dean did his best to shake his head. "No, you just told me your name, which probably means I'm going to die. That's what it's like in movies."

He saw Randy hide a smirk that almost looked like it was affectionate. "That is a high possibility. See, I work for a man with a lot of influence and money. He's testing a knew drug and you've drawn the short straw on getting it implemented on yourself."

"Sounds like my time at college. Y'know if I would have went." He again saw Randy smile, and Dean couldn't help the thought that he and Randy might have been friends in another life. "So you just pick people off the street and test it out on them? That's gotta get pretty boring."

Randy seemed to tilt his head in thought. "No, not really. We test it a different way with each person. Our control for this experiment is going to Mr. Reigns whom will be injected with it. Mr. Rollins will be ingesting it, and you Mr. Ambrose will be getting it through skin absorption."

Dean hummed, "Well looks like I'm the lucky one here."

"Actually, you've got the most painful one. Plus, there is the testing after each treatment, seeing about your pain receptors and things like that. I won't bore you with the scientific details."

Dean screwed up his face. "Well, that kinda puts a damper on our friendship. No point in waiting. Get it over with already." If Dean was going to be a guinea pig, best not to draw it out and face it head on. If he was going to die at the end anyway, then he just didn't want it to be drawn out.

"Sadly, we cannot start until your new associates awaken. But we will start shortly after that. Though, I'm going to release your head from the restraints. No reason that you should all not be able to look at one another while you are going through this. I'm a scientist, and sort of a dick, but I'm not a monster."

Dean felt the pressure release on his neck and he picked his head up to look around, catching sight better of the other two in the room with him. The first was a big Polynesian man with a tribal tattoo on his arm. He had long, flowing hair that looked matted near the top. This indicated that he was most likely hit on the side of the head as well. The other man, had a blonde streak in his hair, with a well groomed beard and looked like he had been for his morning run when he'd been taken, his nose had dried blood on it.

He heard movement from behind him and turned to see Randy walking away, headed for a door. The door had a number keypad in it, and a red light signaling that it was currently locked. "Yo, Randy, do you have like a cool street name with you doing this?"

He actually heard a genuine laugh from the scientist. "Uh, some people call me the Viper. I think it's pretty lame, if I'm being honest." He opened the door and it locked behind him as he left. Dean looked around the room and to his two new roomies. "Yeah… that's pretty lame."

Being a drug guinea pig is not something Dean would recommend to anyone who was going to do it voluntarily. He finally understood all those animal activists when they campaigned for bunnies and shit to not have make up tested on them. He's been in constant pain since they started. The skin absorption of the drugs wasn't so bad, Seth seemed to get the worst deal there with ingesting it, but when it came to the testing of the pain receptors, Randy was most interested in Dean, so that usually meant a bad time. Taking scalpels and cutting his flesh open, testing to see if his blood would be affected or if his muscles were strengthened at all. Then he'd take a club a use Dean's limbs as batting practice to see if they bruised or broke under the stress. Then he'd do similar things to Seth and Roman, but Dean gave them their privacy, it didn't really matter, but Dean felt like he owed them that.

Seth had been the next to awaken, apparently Roman was a deep sleeper. Dean and Seth had gotten a chance to talk well into the first night. They didn't say anything personal, other than names, but Dean found he liked the blonde streaked fitness coach. Roman, a father and an athletic trainer that helped athletes go through rehab after an injury, was silent most of the time, though when he spoke, his voice was deep and calming. They had a similar outlook on the world. Roman never pulled at his restraints, seeming content to wait for an opportune moment or maybe simply resigned to his fate, while Seth maybe showed more rage at the situation he now found himself in, futilely tugging at his restraints for hours on end, Dean could get him to calm and smile with some stupid joke about Randy.

Speaking of Randy, the man was hard to dislike, despite what he was doing to them. He always answered their questions, and even laughed with them when they were making fun of him. He was charismatic, and admitted that he was a simple man that was gifted with great scientific genius. He had been blackmailed into this sort of work, and took no pleasure in it, though the horror had dulled on him after his first few round of patients. He was looking for something more, not able to move because of the information or leverage this boss had on him.

After about a week, or what they thought was a week, they had shared almost everything about themselves to one another. They knew they most likely weren't making it out of here, and there was no sense in not reminiscing about home. Dean talked Randy into getting his phone for him so that he could show Seth and Roman a picture of Renee while Seth and Roman had been taken without their phones so they simply told Dean about their families, Roman's voice choking up at the mention of his daughter. Dean held a vain hope that the showing of his phone would allow someone to track it, but judging by the lack of service and how thick the walls seemed to be that seemed highly unlikely. Dean had never felt tis close to anyone, other than Mick and Renee, though this was slightly different. He felt like he finally had siblings, brothers who had been forged in the same fire as him, due to this shared experience. Though, he knew, it would not last long. He was even beginning to reach his limit for the psychotic drugs and then the torture that followed the high. As he passed out in exhaustion the backs of his eyelids were haunted by the thoughts of what could have been had he met Roman and Seth in different circumstances, as well as the familiar picture of a smiling Canadian with blonde hair.

One morning everything changed. Seth screams woke him up, which was confusing because they were in a rest period where there should be no testing. Dean's head rose from the gurney, and his eyes connected with Roman's, whose brow was also furrowed in concern for their friend. Neither of them had a chance to say anything before a few guys in HAZMAT suits rushed in as an alarm sounded in the distance. They rolled a still manic Seth, seeming to almost shimmer in his gurney, seeming to thrash so fast that his face wasn't visible and his arms shaking the leather straps so fast that it seemed that any moment they'd snap.

"Hey, you can't take him back there! What's going on!?" Dean cursed when the door was slammed in his face, he didn't feel his skin burning anymore, which it should have been only a couple hours after the last treatment, but he attributed it to the adrenaline of seeing his friend carried out screaming. He pulled against his restraints to no avail, as expected. He was still weak from the cutting that Randy had done yesterday, the scars on his body like a roadmap, he was sure.

"That can't be good." Roman piped up from his gurney, and Dean had to hold in a sarcastic comment. They both lapsed into silence, hoping to catch any sound that might give them an indication to their friend's wellbeing. It seemed like almost an hour before they heard a small bang, followed by several grunts and then the door seemed to fade out of view slightly before Seth was standing before them. He looked like shit: bloody, scared, and exhausted, but he was sans straps or gurney.

"Seth? What's going on?"

Seth gave him a bloody smile before moving over to him and untying him. Dean sat up slowly, looking down; taking in the damage of what had been done to him, but felt his eyebrows rise slowly as he saw his body had no scars. His skin actually looked softer and healthier. He turned to see Seth untying Roman as well, and he took his first steps in a couple of weeks, and promptly stumbled, landing near the tray table, tilting it over. The contents poured out over him, acid, needles, scalpels. What a way to die, freedom just around the corner and he trips.

Everything hit him, but he blinked as nothing hurt. He looked up, seeing the acid sizzling across his skin, nothing happening. He looked to the side of where he fell and picked up one of the fallen scalpels. It had been shattered, despite hitting him. Roman and Seth were both looking at him with wide eyes. Dean looked down at himself one last time to make sure he wasn't burning alive before looking at them. "Whoops."

He heard Seth let out a breathy laugh, and even saw Roman smile a bit. Seth ran a hand through his hair. "So, Dean is durable. I've got speed, by the way. I phased right through the binds and couldn't handle it for a second and shouldered each of the guards as I tried to slow down. They bounced off the walls like ragdolls. It had to be the drugs, right?"

Dean stood up and flexed his sore leg muscles. "Or the torture."

Roman spoke up, his low gravelly voice soothing. "Or both. We can debate later. I want out of here. I need to see my little girl." Roman stomped over, a lot more surefooted than Dean had been and reached for the handle, seeming to forget it was password locked. Though, since the door came off at its hinges when he pulled, Dean figured that the password no longer mattered. Roman seemed to allow himself all of three seconds to comprehend what he had done, looking at his hand, closing it into a fist and then looking back at him and Seth, whom most likely had slack-jawed expressions on their faces. "Do we have a plan?"

Dean looked at Seth and grinned, as they both turned to Roman at the same time. "Burn it."

They saw the big man smirk and nod. Dean moved quickly, and went through to door first. Just in time too, because two thug-looking guys pointed guns at them. Dean held his arms out and let the bullets ping off of him uselessly. He felt a breeze and saw a blur as Seth ran passed him and snatched both guns out of their hands, holding them up cockily from behind them, causing them to turn in shock. Turning their backs on an angry Samoan was their worst mistake to date as Roman picked them both up by their shirts, conked them together and threw them to the side.

"There'll be more." Seth said as he came closer, tossing the guns over his shoulders. I'll do a quick run through and see what we are up again. Dean, you're indestructable as far as we know. Want to find us a way to blow this place? Roman, I believe we need to find out who is blackmailing Randy and see if we can help. After we all get a turn to punch him in the face." Seth tilted his head, "Though maybe not you, Roman. You may kill him. We all good on the plan?"

Dean nodded, his smirk creeping through as he held a lighter that he'd found in one of the unconscious guard's pocket. "Don't these thugs know smoking causes cancer?"

Roman smirked and placed his fist in the center of them. Dean raised an eyebrow, and looked to Seth who shrugged. He placed his fist next to Roman's before Dean did the same. "See you all after this." He said it as a promise, rather than a question. They were brothers now. Either all of them left, or none of them did.

Well Dean was for sure indestructible. He also needed new clothes. He'd fought off a ton of guards, no longer having to worry about his safety before he found an enormous room full of cash. It was in blocks, stacked as high as he was and Dean knew that if he started the fire in here, it would catch quickly and hurt the person who had ordered them captured. He flicked the lighter on and tossed it onto the nearest pile of money and waited until the entire thing was burning before he left to go see if his friends had done their jobs.

He came across Seth first, or rather, Seth found him and zipped him into his arms and out into the daylight for the first time in weeks. Dean squinted, barely having any time to adjust before an explosion rocked the compound. Dean spun around, catching Seth standing next to Roman, who stood next to Randy, simply watching the compound burn. Dean walked and stood next to Randy and sighed. "So, who was this and what do they have on you?"

Randy sighed, his eyes never leaving the fire. "I have a daughter. He said he'd kill her if I disobeyed. I am truly sorry."

It was Roman who spoke up. "As a father myself, I understand. Maybe we can help."

Randy shook his head. "No, I've done enough to you. I've been researching a way I might get help. Just by not killing me you've done me a great kindness. Go back to your lives. I'll seek the help that I heard of in the swamps." He paused for a second. "I never got a name, he was always covered in shadows. I only know what they call him and the organization on the street. The Authority."

Dean raised an eyebrow but shrugged, clapping Randy on the shoulder one last time before he, along with Seth and Roman turned away, leaving him in front of the burning lab. They had a lot to discuss and a lot to plan to find out who this Authority was, but first they had some people to see.

"This is the place." Dean stood outside Cactus Jack's with both Roman and Seth. "We need a decent meal, and then you guys can head home. Mikey may not work anymore, but Mick isn't a slouch in the kitchen."

"And cause you're scared your fiancé will kill you, and want us to protect your indestructible ass." Roman supplied, hidden mirth in his tone.

"That's just a bonus."

Seth cackled, still looking pretty beat up. They all did, in fact, and Dean still couldn't find a shirt, though they had made a stop at the gas station on the way here, getting weird looks for how rough they looked, but the cashier hadn't said anything. Dean held the bag in his right hand before sighing, throwing open the door of the closed bar.

The lights were off, but his eyes adjusted to the familiar sight and he felt his shoulders relax. His eyes almost immediately locked onto the single blonde occupant of the room, with her back turned towards them. He pushed inward, to allow Seth and Roman in. He made his way slightly closer, but he kept far enough away that he wouldn't scare her too badly. "Man, I'm gone for a month and this place is dead."

Renee spun around with wide eyes and leaped from her chair. Dean felt some amount of satisfaction still seeing his engagement ring on her finger. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little scared that she'd assumed the worst and moved on, though that idea seemed ridiculous now. Renee launched herself at him and his arms were full of Canadian. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in her familiar scent. She pulled back slightly and cupped his face in her shaking hands. He leaned in for a kiss, but was met with his girlfriend's fist instead. He worked his jaw; it hadn't hurt half as much as it usually did, but he certainly felt it. Renee was glaring at him, shaking her hand in pain.

"That's what you have to say after being missing for a month?!" Dean bit his lip, unable to help how cute he thought she was when she was mad.

"Sorry, let me try again." He held up the bag and pulled the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of it. "I finally got my cereal. Sorry it took me so long."

His arms were full of her again, a mumbled, "Asshole" murmured into his chest as he held her. Before he could enjoy the moment too long a throat cleared behind him and he stood a little straighter.

"As for what happened, babe, I'm gonna need these guys' help to tell it right. Renee this is Roman and Seth. Guys, this is my fiancé."

Renee turned to look at them and smiled. "Hello. Thanks for keeping him in one piece."

Seth seemed ready to comment on the irony of that statement but a headshake from Dean told him to hold off. "How about you get the old man, break the news to him slowly so he doesn't keel over from a heart attack and help us get some good food in us and we can tell you everything we know over food?"

Renee bit her lip. "Promise you won't go anywhere?" Dean felt his heart clench at how wrecked she must have been with him gone, and now she was worried he was going to disappear again.

"I'm gonna get a bowl so I can have my damn cereal. Been waiting an entire month, at least." Renee gave him a look before he smiled and squeezed her head. "I promise."

She nodded before she threw her glance at Seth and Roman. "While I appreciate the eye candy of you all being shirtless, I'm gonna get you some of Dean's shirts. Wait here."

As Renee went upstairs, Dean turned to Roman and Seth who looked pleasantly surprised, or impressed. Seth was the one that spoke first. "You got lucky Ambrose."

"Yeah, I did. Now, move. I wasn't kidding about my damn cereal."

Mick had been just as happy to see him. He had a big bear hug waiting for Dean, whom enjoyed it probably more than he let on. But soon, Mick went into caring father mode and immediately went to make them plates upon plates of food. After they had been served, Dean, Roman, and Seth, told their story as well as they could. Renee didn't believe that Dean could be indestructible until Dean tried to stab himself with a steak knife and it broke in half. Seth had sped around the room a little, still getting used to his powers, but getting exponentially better each time he used them.

Renee had sat back, amazed, and seemingly exhausted. "While you were gone, we spent almost everyday looking for you. Putting up signs, talking to the last guy who'd seen you. Nothing was working."

"Sami?" Dean hadn't thought about the half-shaved man since the incident.

"Yeah, he came in the day after you went missing asking for you. Said you saved him and that you told him to come here. That's what tipped us off that you were in trouble, and not just held up in town somewhere. He's been helping us look for you in the areas we can't go. He basically works and lives here now."

Dean smiled. "Good. He seems like a good guy. You should hire him in the kitchen Mick. Seems like he could use a chance."

Mick nodded, his face still pensive from their story. "I'd say he's earned it." He paused for a minute before looking at each of them in turn. "So what are you going to do with these new found powers?"

Dean chanced a glance at Roman and Seth. "Well, I mean we haven't thought about it. We just wanted to come home."

Roman spoke up, "We could really help people, if we tried."

Seth nodded, "Plus, we have to find these guys that Randy told us about. I still want to make them hurt for what they did to us."

Dean smirked, "So what are we? A superhero squad?"

They all smiled and bumped their fists together. "Seems like this could be a good thing for us, and the city." Dean chanced a glance over at Mick, who was beaming with pride. "I'm not dressing up in one of those stupid costumes though."

They all laughed, Renee leaning into him, like she'd never let go, and his new friends relaxing in his home, more and more by the second. Dean couldn't want anything more at this moment. He even got his cereal.

Brad gulped. He hated delivering bad news to The Authority. It very rarely ended well for anyone involved, and not only did he have to say that the drugs were successful in a way that they hadn't intended, but he had to tell the boss that they had lost the compound, the research, the doctor, and all the money they had stored there.

He knocked, hearing a faint 'come in' from the other side of the door. He braced himself and pushed the large metal door open. There, sitting on some form of metal throne, cloaked in shadow was the boss. He was idly clutching a human skull in his hands, toying with it like one would a stress ball. Rumor said that the skull was the boss's own skull. He'd had it surgically removed and replaced with a metal exoskeleton. It was smart of the boss to not deny the rumors, if they weren't true, as people feared and respected him for it. Brad walked forward and inclined his head respectfully. Might as well get this over with.

"I'm afraid I bear bad news. The compound is destroyed along with every ounce of money, research, and doctor we had there. Orton's daughter disappeared from the house we set her at as well, only a lantern left behind. The few men that survived tell of three men with powers brought on from the drugs. I'm sorry, boss."

Soon the voice spoke up from his throne. "Oh, Brad. You need not apologize. This is not your failure. Have the men that were watching Orton's daughter killed for their failure." He seemed to take a breath before continuing. "As for the compound and these supposed powers, it is an interesting development. There are always more doctors who will pick up where Orton left off, and we can market this out to benefit us and reclaim our money we lost."

"But, sir, we don't have any of Orton's research. How can they pick up where he left off?"

The man stood slowly and hummed, "Well you said there were three of these men? We bide our time, recover some of our resources, and take at least one of them." He flexed his hand and the skull shattered into dust, his glowing red eye flickering on, on his left side only. "Kill the others."


	4. Chapter 3

"Welcome to Channel Six News. Our top story tonight: the new vigilante team known as The Shield, called that by the people they have saved, stopped an arms sale going down at the docks last night."

Dean smirked, wiping down the bar, listening as the reporters speculated on who The Shield could be, and how they got their powers. Seth and Roman weren't really paying attention, too busy with their discussion between one another to even hear the television. Renee, however, caught his smirk and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I'm marrying a superhero. Should we invest in some spandex?"

He glared at her, "You ain't getting me in spandex. I don't care how kinky you're trying to be."

She glared right back at him, smirk playing on her lips dangerously, the cocky attitude only ruined slightly by the blush that was beginning to form. She cleared her throat and moved the small magazine towards him. "So, I'm thinking these for some of the decorations."

Dean groaned, "Renee, I'm fine with a courthouse wedding. Whatever you want, that we can afford, you get."

Renee shook her head fondly, or at least Dean hoped it was fondly. "Yes, I know. Talking to you helps me think, plus if you see something you don't like, you can veto it. Trust me, I won't ask your actual opinion on anything."

He smirked, taking a look at the magazine. "Wow, not asking my opinion. Thought that wasn't supposed to start until after the wedding." He chuckled at her swat to his arm, but he pushed the magazine back towards her. "I like it. It's very you."

She beamed at him happily and began to flip through the magazine again. Dean was about to continue their conversation when he heard his name. He turned and saw Seth waving him down the bar. He squeezed Renee's arm and walked to meet his two best friends.

They looked much better, a couple months out from their ordeal. The scars had mostly healed. Roman was back with his wife and daughter, whom had been overjoyed to see him and to meet the two men he escaped with. Dean didn't usually like kids, but Roman's daughter was quickly worming her way into his heart, despite his best efforts. Seth seemed to take to her so naturally that Dean felt like he couldn't measure up. The little girl hadn't gotten that memo and was fixed on making Dean like her. Seth, on the other hand, seemed more fit than he had been before. His super speed seeming to make his muscles more defined, and he expressed surprise when he was able to double his usual weightlifting maximum. Seth seemed happier as well, though he seemed to be the most tired out of all of them.

"Dean, I was hoping you can settle me and Roman's debate." Dean internally groaned. Seth and Roman always seemed to disagree on something. The three of them had become inseparable, but that didn't mean that they agreed on everything.

"What is it this time?"

"Well, we both agree that the whole vigilante thing is getting tiring. I have work in the morning and I barely get enough sleep to function. Roman's got a family to raise, and it's getting to be a little much. What we disagree on is what to do next. He thinks we should join the Sentinels. They pay decent government wages, but I'd say we'd make more if we privatized ourselves; made it like a private investigator thing. What do you think?"

"I think you're both wrong." Dean ran a hand through his hair. This is not a conversation that he wanted to have. "Look guys, if we privatize, that's not helping those who can't afford us. Plus, we still have the guy that took us at large somewhere, and while we've been looking and gathering some information, if we start a business, that's just easier to find us for him." He watched Seth deflate, his head dropping. He turned to Roman. "The Sentinels would be a bad fit as well. They do exactly what the government tells them to do. We have encountered so much shit just doing the vigilante job because the Sentinels can't be cleared to come deal with it." Roman pursed his lips but said nothing. "I'm sorry, guys. Helping people, it comes with a sacrifice. But doing nothing with these powers would be letting more people get hurt. We have a responsibility now, and we can't give up or change our ways just cause the going gets a little tough and tiring."

Roman and Seth turned and looked at each other. They seemed to reach an agreement and turned back to Dean. Seth was the one who spoke up. "Alright. I see your point, but we need to figure out something so I'm not a walking wreck everyday."

Dean nodded, his mind already trying to think of a solution. To stall for time while he thought about it he decided to tease Seth a little and try to get that smirk back on his face. "I'm just too busy trying to figure out how the guy with super speed doesn't have enough time."

It seemed to work as Seth smirked, giving Dean a fake glare. Dean watched Seth lean in that relaxed position before the idea suddenly struck him. "I think I might have something. How many days a week do you work, on average?"

Seth blinked, his eyes flickering with hope. "Uh, five."

He smirked, "So, how's this? On the days that you work, you don't patrol with Roman and me. We call you if we need your expertise. You sprint out, do the job and go back to your resting."

Roman turned to Seth, whom looked thoughtful. "Kind of like a doctor on call." Dean nodded, watching Seth anxiously while he deliberated. It was only a moment more before Seth nodded. "It's better than nothing at this point. I don't see a better option, so, I'm game."

Dean tapped the side of his head, "Just need these kinds of brains, Rollins." The point would have been made a little smoother, if Dean hadn't turned and promptly knocked two glasses over, and if Renee hadn't been laughing so hard she was crying, but his point was still valid.

Brad stepped into the dark room, one with which he'd become a little more familiar. He still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. As usual, his boss was up on the throne, sans human skull this time, so that was a bonus. He felt the cold chill of the words before he heard them. "Brad. I hope you are here for a reason."

"Yes sir. I have the results you asked me for."

"Ah, then it is very good to see you."

"Thank you. Shall I read them off for you?"

"Please do." He saw the hulking figure stand, and move across the room, not stepping out of the shadows, as he seemed to pace, like a predator, waiting.

"The research is ready to begin once we get blood samples from any of the escapees. We have refunded ourselves again, more so actually, than the funds we had when they burned the building down. And, the private investigators are done following them. All the information is in this folder. Also, a scientist gave me this. He said your special ordered it." He placed the folder down on the table in front of him, knowing that the boss didn't like to be handed things. Then he placed the small box right next to it. He didn't want to know what was in it, so he didn't bother to ask. He heard a hum of pleasure.

"Good. I shall take a look at that and devise a means to bring them down in a way I see fit, but you need not concern yourself anymore of this Brad. I have some final tasks for you, and then you may go back to running your operation for me as you have always done."

Brad felt a shiver run through his body the way the figure had said 'final', but assured himself that he'd be fine as long as he didn't fail."Of course, sir."

"Kill the private investigators. I don't want them growing a conscience, but make sure their pay goes to their families. Same with the scientist who gave you this box." The figure must have seen the look on Brad's face because he let out a hollow laugh. "I am smart, Brad, but not totally heartless. They did the work for me. I shall pay them and make sure their families will be cared for… to an extent. But I cannot afford anything getting out."

Brad nodded. "I'll take care of it." Then he turned and walked out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. He'd take care of these last few chores for the boss and disappear back in to obscurity. If he saw that figure again before he died, it'd be too soon.

Dean was washing glasses when Sami sat in front of him, big smile on his face. Dean looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Calihan, can I help you with something or do you just like looking at my pretty face?"

Sami seemed to take it in stride as he laughed and put a hand dramatically over his heart. "Alas, our love was never meant to be, you are already betrothed to someone else."

And, like she had perfect timing, Renee sat down next to him, smacking him on the arm. "And don't you forget it."

Dean smiled at both of them. He set his glass down, and through the rag onto his shoulder. "So, you wanted something?"

"Actually, boss, it's what you wanted. You wanted me to keep my ear to the ground for anything new going down on the streets. Well, I got some news. Apparently a new drug is in town. From what I hear it's sold by, get this, The Authority. That's the name I've been hearing to go along with this stuff."

Dean glanced at Renee whom was looking at him. He nodded, "Thanks, Sami. I'll talk to the guys and see what we can dig up."

The half-shaved man nodded, "One last bit of info. From what I hear, they like to sell down between the docks and fifth street, but that's all I know."

Dean nodded, allowing Sami to go and get started in the kitchen. He blew out a breath of air and leaned against the bar. Renee reached forward to grasp his hand talking to him steadily. "You can do this, Dean. You, Seth, and Roman have this responsibility now. All of you are such good people and if anyone deserves powers it is you."

He smiled, leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She grinned, "Now, go be a hero."

Not a minute later he was pulling out his cell phone, Roman and Seth both already dialed in a group call. "Guys? Just got word that some Authority likes to sell their new drug down by the docks. Most likely trying to earn back the money we burned. I'll meet you guys on fifth in thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes later Dean was chatting with Seth, who had been there waiting the entire thirty minutes. Super speed didn't make the two-toned man any more patient. Roman was almost there, according to his text, and they simply had to sit to wait on him.

"It's so weird to think that you can't even cut yourself shaving now."

Dean grinned, "A big benefit. You know how I am in the morning. Now, I can cut my face all to hell with a razor and I just won't bleed."

Seth hummed in interest. "So the wedding is next month. You nervous?"

Dean felt himself shiver at the thought. "One hundred percent nervous. I just want it, and me, to be good enough."

The younger man scoffed, "Have you seen the way she looks at you? I'm pretty sure you could be covered in garbage or something and she'd still be into you. That's true love if I've ever seen it."

Dean opened his mouth to respond before he saw Roman walking up the street. He jerked his head in that direction, letting Seth turn and see the big dog himself. They greeted one another before they all walked into the alley.

All of them wore baggy hoodies over their clothes, dark pants, and combat boots. Almost at the same time, they discarded the baggy hoodies, leaving them in combat vests, Dean's idea that had been easy to acquire from an army surplus store. Then they added masks that covered the lower half of their face, decorated with skulls and fangs, concealing their identity.

With them now ready to go, they set off for the docks. It wasn't that far from fifth where they had met but it still took them a good twenty minutes to get to a good enough vantage point where they could look down and scan the area. Dean turned to Seth, "Think you can scope the place out?"

Seth grinned and winked before disappearing in a flash, only to reappear twenty seconds later. "Looks like the Intel was good. Look at the third warehouse on the right. You ever see that many security guards for a simple warehouse in the middle of the night?"

Dean leaned closer and chuckled, "Especially not security that carries assault rifles, or dress like gangbangers. You guys ready? Remember, we need one to talk; this is our first lead on The Authority in a while. Let's go."

Dean located the two outside the west door and chose them as the unlucky first participants. He snuck closer, letting Seth whirl by them, causing them to turn the opposite direction. Dean snuck right behind them and tapped them both on the shoulder. Thoroughly flummoxed they turned around and were met with a knockout punch to the side of the head and a kick to the gut. The one that still remained conscious was doubled over, not having enough breath in his vacant lungs to yell or raise the alarm. Dean tucked the man's head under his armpit, locked his arms behind the man's back and drove his head into the asphalt. His back took most of the punishment, leaving the asphalt cracked, but the man was unconscious and not getting up any time soon.

Seth and Roman were already posted up to the door and Dean came to stand in front of it. For everyone's protection, Dean was always the first man through doors so that all the possible flying projectiles hit him and not his friends. Dean was such a selfless person, if he did say so himself. He nodded at Roman who hit the door, as if we were Fonzi hitting a jukebox, and it flew off its hinges.

The loud bang alerted the rest of the men inside, as gunshots began to ring out. Dean stepped through the door feeling a few lucky shots ping off of him uselessly. His body shield allowed Roman to duck in and behind some crates, while Seth was moving too fast for the bullets anyway.

Dean stood there for a moment, without any fear, counting the men in the warehouse. There were a lot, roughly thirty that he could see, but most of them looked scared. Not well trained. Most likely street thugs. He watched with satisfaction as Seth took out several of them, pausing to rest as he was still getting a handle on his powers, tiring more easily than he would be in several months if he kept the training up. Roman was amusing to watch too, as he would throw crates at men that were grouped up together, or simply spring around the corner, jumping into the air, and knocking one unlucky guy back one hundred feet with a punch.

Dean chuckled. He couldn't really watch them do all the work, so he strode forward with purpose towards a guy with an AK-47. He batted the gun away and took the guy to the ground and started whaling on him. Dean wasn't classically trained. He knew how to scrap. His newfound powers only allowed him to walk forward and maul people without being afraid of getting shot.

Lather, rinse, repeat with several more and they were all wrapped up. Seth was still panting hard, Roman was shaking his fist slightly to ward off some of the numbness that comes with punching things over and over again and Dean felt fine. His powers ruled. Out of all the men, only one was still conscious and he was pulled over by Dean, whose voice was still muffled by the mask. "Well, we heard you work for a mutual friend of ours, little man. Want to give us some useful info so that I don't have my super fast friend here run you up a skyscraper over and over again?"

The guy gulped, "He- he had a message for you."

Dean felt Roman stiffen behind him, but Dean didn't understand why. They'd taken all the guys out. "Well?"

"He said that you should be thinking about the pretty things in your life and how breakable they are. Especially blonde ones."

Roman spoke up, finally able to find his voice. "It was a trap."

Dean's mind shut down, his legs backing away of their own accord. He could see Seth and Roman talking to him, but the blood was rushing to his ears and he heard none of it. He spun and sprinted out of the warehouse only one thing on his mind: Renee.

Seth blinked as Dean turned and ran. "They scared him."

Roman nodded. "You should catch up with him. Even if the guy was telling the truth about the message, if he runs in their alone its gonna get messy. We need a plan of attack."

Seth nodded and took a step ready to bring Dean back when the lights shut off and, through the moonlight the skylights shattered and in dropped five men, dressed like special forces soldiers, and they began firing at them. Seth used his momentum to grab Roman and pull him to safety behind some boxes.

Dean burst through the door of Cactus Jack's and looked around wide-eyed, not even caring that he was still dressed in his suit. He caught sight of Renee's blonde head behind the bar and sprinted through, startling her and the other patrons, all regulars that he knew, at the bar. He looked her over frantically. "You're fine! Are you okay?"

She frowned, "Of course I'm fine. What happened? What's wrong?"

Dean shook his head, still feeling panic on behalf of his loved ones. "Later. Where's Mick?"

He heard his dad's voice echo from behind him. "Right here. You seem in a panic. What's wrong?"

Dean sagged with relief when he turned and saw his dad. "Sorry… I just, never mind." Then he blinked; he could have sworn Seth and Roman were right behind him. He looked throughout the bar, but there was no sign of them. Dammit, now he had to go look for them. "I gotta go find Roman and Seth. Stay here. Nobody comes into the bar except for Seth, Roman, or myself, okay?"

They both nodded, still looking flummoxed as to what had him so on edge. Dean sprinted to the door and threw it open only to come eye to eye with a very angry looking Roman and Seth. Roman took him by his shirt and hauled him outside and against a brick wall. Seth was too busy holding a cloth to his shoulder to do much of anything. Roman lifted him off his feet and in the angriest voice Dean had ever heard him use said, "You ditched us."

Dean immediately felt awful. Something must have gone down after he left. "Guys, I-"

Seth cut him off. "Don't give us any lame excuses Ambrose! You left and then they had back up of Special Forces guys. We barely made it out of there alive. I got shot! Plus, if they did have Renee, what were you going to do? We could have come up with a plan to save her, together, that wouldn't get anybody hurt or killed! But no, you went into business for yourself, damn everyone else, right?"

Roman dropped him to the floor, leaning against the wall saved Dean from falling on his ass.. "We all have people that we care about, but you can't just ditch us every time you get scared. Maybe this was a mistake, teaming up like this."

"No, no, it wasn't a mistake guys, I- I… was just doing what I thought was right. I thought you guys were right behind me, if I'd have known-"

"Save it." Seth sounded exhausted. "I'm going home."

Roman nodded, and with one final look at Dean, they both turned and wandered off down the street. Dean put his face in his hands. "Way to fuck it up, Ambrose…. Fucking vintage Dean."

He really needed a drink.


	5. Chapter 4

Dean had not had a good few weeks. He'd been going about his usual business but had not heard from Roman and Seth since they stormed into the bar and dragged him outside for the most awkward discussion ever. He knew they were still going out together because the newscasters were having a field day trying to figure out how The Shield could be in two places at once. Dean was still doing his civic duty and it was a consolation that Roman and Seth continued to do the same.

He was lonely out there and it sucked to not have the camaraderie of his brothers and having someone watching his back. Renee had agreed, as she was always less worried when Dean had someone watching his back and she, as he did, trusted Roman and Seth with his life. Not having them in the bar, or getting to go over to their house was killing him. The wedding was only a couple weeks away and they were supposed to be the best men at the wedding and now he had no one. Well, that wasn't true. He had Calihan, and while he was invited to the wedding, he wasn't a groomsmen. Dean supposed in an emergency he could make it happen so he had someone up there, but Dean still had hope that Roman or Seth would come around.

After telling Renee about the fight she had simultaneously made him feel both worse and better. She told him that she understood where he was coming from, being worried about her, but he cannot abandon the friends that he was tied to by brotherhood because they had just as much to lose as he did. She advised him to let them stew for a couple days so that they cooled off and then try to apologize. He'd done so and received no response to his texts or phone calls.

Well, that is until right this minute. Seth was standing in front of him, hands in his pockets awkwardly. Renee was smiling knowingly before moving away from the bar and up the stairs, letting the two talk alone.

"Hey, Dean."

"Seth."

They both waited a minute before Dean moved around from behind the bar and stood toe to toe with his (former?) friend. Seth gave him a once over and sighed. "Look, me and Roman have been talking. We understand where you're coming from. We both have people in our lives that matter to us. We just didn't feel important or that our lives really meant anything to you that night."

Dean scratched the back of his head. "Sorry about that. I just, I heard them describe her and all my other senses shot down. I've been keeping a look out for any unusual people hanging around, but haven't seen anything. Might have just been a shot in the dark on his part that was meant to scare me."

Seth nodded, "Sounds like something possible. Plus, we appreciate the level of groveling you've been doing to try to make it up to us."

The smirk growing on Seth's lips made Dean smile back. "Yeah, well… I miss you guys."

"Wow. Are you guys gonna kiss, cause I'd totally be down to see that."

Dean peered over to where Renee was leaning up against the side of the doorframe with a smirk on her lips. Seth barked a laugh and smiled at Renee, heading over to squeeze her into a hug. "Not gonna lie, I missed Renee a lot more than you, Ambrose."

"You can have her."

Seth grinned, while Renee scowled at Dean, though the smile tugging at her lips said otherwise. "Alright, I've got to head back to work. Roman and I will be over tonight and we can put all the stuff we've been getting on The Authority and pool them with yours. I assume you've been keeping up on your end?"

He nodded. "Yeah, found some interesting tidbits, I'll see you tonight."

Seth smiled and moved towards the door, but before he pushed it open Dean felt himself calling out to his friend again. "Seth!" The two toned man turned around and gave Dean a raised eyebrow, silently questioning him. "Why was it you and not Roman that came to see me today? Why not both of you?"

Seth thought for a moment and then seemed to shake his head out of whatever lie he'd been constructing. "Cause Roman is way to good at Rock, Paper, Scissors." He gave Dean and Renee a playful wink before backing out the door and down the alley.

Renee came up and wrapped an arm around him from behind. "Told you they'd come around."

He nodded. "I usually listen to you, cause you're usually right."

She squeezed him and burrowed into his back. "Hm, you should put that in your vows for our wedding. I like to hear it."

Dean laughed, throwing his head back. "You being cute isn't going to convince me to tell you what I wrote for my vows. You'll have to wait till the wedding."

He could feel her pout despite her being behind him and it caused a dopey grin to come to his face as he grew both nervous and excited for his wedding. Now that he had Seth and Roman back on his side, all he had to do was put a ring on Renee's finger and he'd have everything he ever wanted.

The day was here and Dean was trying his best not to be the stereotypical husband-to-be by not being nervous or freaking out. He was failing miserably. He was about half way through sweating through his suit jacket when a hard and powerful grip stopped him. Roman, Seth just behind him, gave him a measured, but comforting look before speaking. "You'll be fine. She wants this just as much as you, and she loves you. Now sit down before I have to explain why I knocked you out to your fiancé."

Dean gave him a shaky smile, and instead of pacing, sat down in a conveniently placed chair, his leg bouncing nervously. He went over his vows, (why had he agreed to write their own vows?), and tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. It had always been Renee and him since that faithful day on the school bus. He'd never wanted anyone else, and after today, he's not sure where his life could go that would make it better. He rather liked the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose, or Mr. and Mrs. Young. Dean didn't know what Renee had written on the official documents, he was too busy trying to help afford the wedding she deserved and getting his vows together.

Seth, who had stepped out of the room now that Dean was calm, peeked his head in the door with a small smile. "You're up, dude."

Dean slapped his cheeks a couple times and tried to shake the nervousness out of his system and gave Roman the nod of approval. Roman and Seth flanked him as he made his way down the aisle to stand by the alter. He'd never been particularly religious, but according the Renee, church weddings were cuter than getting married at the bar, which was Dean's plan, so he'd agreed. He stood up there for a moment by himself, with a casual glance at Mick who looked spiffy in his plaid tuxedo. He gave Dean a thumbs up and a wink and Dean instantly felt better.

That was, until the door opened and Renee came walking down the aisle like she fucking owned it. Her eyes were on him in that signature smirk he'd grown to love, her dress pure white and the train trailing beautifully behind her. Dean must have stared the entire time without consciously meaning to because the next instant he noticed her and her father right below him. He remembered at the last minute to take her hand from her father, as was tradition, and helped her up the last few steps.

He was going to be honest; he wasn't paying attention to a word the minister was saying. He was simply waiting for the word 'vow' to register in his mind so he could know when to start speaking. He was already annoyed that Renee wasn't already his wife. Renee seemed to be having the same thoughts as he was because her eyes kept cutting to the minister in annoyance before beaming when she caught Dean who hadn't stopped staring at her.

"The couple has written their own vows. We will start with the bride."

Renee perked up and cleared her throat. "Dean, when we first met, I couldn't help but thank whatever power in the universe dropped this awkwardly cute boy in my lap on the first day of school." The audience laughed as Dean felt a stupid smile appear on his face. "Even then I didn't think that'd I'd get here with you. You always were so self-sacrificing and you are way too hard on yourself sometimes, but all of those quirks, even if it caused some fights between us, made me love you more. You are a good man, Dean Ambrose. I couldn't have chosen a better human to spend the rest of my life with."

Dean felt his throat go dry at all the praise she had heaped on him. He wasn't deserving of her, that was his thoughts on it at least. But she vehemently disagreed with him, and was making a point to say that in front of all their friends and family, but only for him. She had used her vows to make sure that he knew she couldn't be happier or want to do this any more than she already did. She loved him.

He felt his heart stop and start as he tried to clear his throat. He gave her a rueful smile and tried his best to remember his short, but heartfelt vows. "I'm not the best with words." The audience laughed in agreement, causing Dean to chuckle at himself. "And it took me too long trying to come up with something that sounded like a Hallmark card before I realized that it wouldn't truly be from my heart. So, what I came up with was only this: It has ever, only been you, Renee. I love you."

Renee looked like if she smiled any wider her face would rip in half, or that if her eyes sparkled any more that Dean might go blind. She squeezed his hand, and if he wouldn't have been indestructible she might have broken his hand. They both looked at the minister impatiently, who gave them a wry smile before saying. "The rings please."

Seth jumped forward, handing Dean the ring. He grinned at his friend, deliriously happy and took it. He repeated the words the minister spoke on autopilot he was only trying to keep his hand from shaking. He smiled as Renee put the ring on his finger, the epitome of grace and elegance. Finally the minister got to the good part. "By the power given to me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now ki-"

Dean didn't wait any further, before pulling Renee in, tipping her back and kissing her with all the strength he had been building up since he saw her walk down the aisle in that dress.

The post reception party was not really a party at all. The reception had been fun, everyone dancing and having a good time. Renee had been crying while dancing with each of her parents, and Dean and Mick awkwardly dancing to the amusement of everyone. Roman's daughter had been perched between Dean and Renee the whole night, happy to look and be a part of everything and hadn't let Dean or Seth leave without dancing on their shoes. The usually stoic Roman had danced with his wife and daughter and had been smiling a lot more that night as he watched his daughter dance with her uncles. Dean was pretty sure that Seth danced with every bridesmaid there, before Renee stole him for a dance where she totally showed the two-toned man up in skill.

Now, everyone except for Dean and his new wife, Mick, Roman and Seth, had all went home. They were sitting back at Cactus Jack's, closed for the day, and drinking and enjoying one another's company. Mick had waddled upstairs a moment before coming back down holding the 'last surprise of the evening.' He handed it to all of them on the other side of the bar, showing Dean it was a picture frame. It was of him, Renee, Mick, Seth, and Roman all standing in their suits, and dress in Renee's case, outside of the church. Dean was hanging all over Renee while all of them were grinning at the camera.

"How'd you get this printed so fast, this was only six hours ago?"

Mick shrugged mysteriously, "I know a couple people." He then held up a hammer and nail. "Time to put up the picture. Would you like to do the honors, Mrs. Ambrose?"

Renee grinned, "Being allowed to hit something into the wall, I'm glad my father-in-law knows me so well."

She jumped the bar and took the hammer and nail from Mick, choosing the middle of the bar she hit the nail in and quickly took the picture frame from Mick and hung it so it would stay centered. She quickly jumped back over the bar, landing in the seat beside Dean and leaning into him until he pulled her in with an arm around her shoulders. He watched her hand go to the necklace he had bought her so long ago and kissed the top of her head.

Dean stared at the new addition to the picture wall, felt Renee's steady breath under his arm and the laughter and voices of his two best friends and adopted father echoing in his mind. Everything was perfect.


	6. Chapter 5

"This is the place, Seth?"

The half blonde man nodded, "Yeah, guy tried to jump me on the way home from my run. I got it out of him. He said this is where he was supposed to meet the boss to get paid. Might be another dead end and The Authority might just send some asshole to pay the guy for him."

Roman spoke up, lingering behind both of them. "It's a chance we have to take. This could be our big break to end this threat and get some semblance of revenge for the time he took from us."

Dean nodded. "Roman's right. Let's go see what all the fuss is about."

As the clambered down, Dean thought about the last couple of weeks. He and Renee were looking at moving out from the apartment over the bar and into someplace close by. Then Renee was already talking about getting a dog, a bulldog, and Dean could never deny her a thing, so it was more like a 'when' than an 'if'. When Seth had brought him and Roman together this morning to talk, saying he had a new lead on the Authority, the chance to end that threat before he could really start his new life was too tantalizing to pass up. So, he left Renee at the bar with Mick, knowing it'd be a slow night tonight.

He meandered his way down next to the warehouse and posted up on the door like they usually did. He would be the first through, then Roman, and then Seth. It could always be a trap.

Dean chanced a glance back to Roman and Seth who both smiled at him and nodded, before putting on their fanged skeleton masks. Time to end this. Roman hit the door, caving it in on its hinges and flying back a good forty feet. Dean stepped through, expecting gunfire, but found none. He stepped further in and looked around. The place looked deserted and he motioned the other two through and to fan out. All of the lights were out but for one near the back of the warehouse. Dean pointed to it after tapping Seth on the shoulder and they moved that way with Roman coming up, looking for a fight.

They turned the corner and saw a man, seated on some throne type seat. The light was on just in front of him causing his face to be completely shadowed from their view. One glowing red eye was staring directly at Dean. Seeing no more need for subtlety he stepped forward with Roman and Seth into the light. "You finally get tired of ducking us?"

"I guess you could say that, Mr. Ambrose. I'm glad you could stop by."

This was weird. The glowing red eye and the uncaring voice told Dean it was a trap, but there was no one else here. This guy must have something on him. "Well, we figured if we didn't come after you, you'd be coming after us. Plus, we owe you hell for what you put us through."

"Put you through? I gave you unspeakable power, and you repay me by hurting my men, burning my money, and destroying my research. If anybody owes anyone, its you owing me."

Dean glared at the man. "Then why don't you come down and prove it?"

He watched the glowing red eye close as the man leaned back in his throne, a deep laugh sounding throughout the empty warehouse. "You have a lot of spunk, Mr. Ambrose. And yes fighting you, finding a way to kill you, was Plan A. But, I realized that would never work. I have to find out how you work. My men would be unstoppable with your powers, especially if I could combine all three." Dean watched him sit forward, feeling Roman tensing up next to him. "So, I thought of a different way. Plan B, if you will."

Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion before he felt Roman drop next to him, a needle sticking out of his neck, any fluid in it already drained by the plunger. He widened his eyes, but before he could even turn he felt his arms grabbed at super speed and tied behind his back. He tried to open his mouth, his mask flying off, to say something, but before he could blink he flew back into metal pole, denting it, but seeing how it was bolted to the floor, it didn't budge. As he tried to make it to his knees, he felt a second, larger pair of cuffs over his arms and attach around the pole.

It was only after this that he was able to push himself to his feet and look up into the cold, angry eyes of Seth. He tried to lunge forward but was pulled back, his arms stretching in an unnatural way. "Seth… you bastard!" He couldn't feel anything but confusion and it quickly turned to anger and rage.

Seth seemed to stalk in front of him, stopping just in front of him. He leaned down near Dean and vibrated his hand at super speed. "I wonder if I phase through your chest if your heart is just as invulnerable… I'd end this just like you almost ended me!"

Dean threw his entire body weight forward, head-butting his former friend in the face. "You fucking asshole, I would have died for you!"

Seth recoiled from the strike and glared back down at Dean, his nose obviously broken and bleeding freely into his beard. He lunged forward with his hand, going straight for Dean's heart, but the strike never came as he heard The Authority call out. "No!"

Seth stopped on a dime and continued to glare at Dean, but his hand dropped and stopped its vibrations. The man stood, still encased in shadows and sniffed. "You are to break his spirit, then bring him with you. Mr. Reigns will be out for the foreseeable future. Take your time, Seth. Claim your revenge." And with that, the man whose face Dean still hadn't seen walked away, leaving him with Seth Rollins. The traitor.

Dean decided to say as much. "You're a fucking traitor Rollins. You think the guy that almost killed you is going to start playing nice? You'll be a lab rat, before he kills you."

"Better than dying, on the street like a rat. You may be okay, sacrificing everything Ambrose. Money, your life, even our lives for your little mission, but some of us need to feed ourselves. These powers… they're a gift, but not to help people. They are a gift that I can use to better my place in the world. I tried to get you to see the light. We could have become a business together. Made our living this way… and then you go and leave me and Roman to die while you go back on your word to sacrifice for us and for your mission."

Dean was shaking in rage, but a small doubt flared in the back of his mind. He had preached that to Seth several months before. He'd done all of what Seth said. "That was a mistake I made. I'm just as new to this as you are, Seth. You could have come to me about this; we would have worked it out like brothers. Instead, you stab me and Roman in the back!"

Seth sniffed. "Well, I do feel bad about Roman. But he just couldn't have it in him to blame you. He was the one who pushed me to forgive you. He wanted us to make up, but I couldn't let it go. Then I had to sit through your cringe-worthy wedding, while you flaunted everything you'd never sacrifice in my face."

Dean felt more anger flare that Seth had been planning this since the wedding. He'd handed him the wedding ring. He'd helped him write his vows. He'd danced with his wife at the reception, knowing that he was going to ship Dean off to be a guinea pig in some lab. "I think you just didn't have what it take Rollins. So you're right; my bad for thinking you were a decent human being."

Seth paused for a second, his head tilting to the side, almost listening for something. Then, the most terrifying part of the night, he smiled. "You're right. I didn't have what it takes to sacrifice everything for the mission. But, neither do you. So, I'm going to help you, Ambrose. One last time, for our friendship's sake." He walked over and quickly moved Roman to the wall, leaning up against it in a sitting position. "I wouldn't want you to be a hypocrite, Dean, or a liar. So, why don't I see if you really would sacrifice everything for the mission?"

He stepped forward to give Dean a playful tap on the cheek before running off at super speed and leaving him alone in the warehouse with unconscious Roman. Dean knew he had maybe a minute at most before Seth made it back, depending on how far he ran. He'd use that time to his advantage and began to tug at his restraints. The ones around his upper arms weren't a problem. The pole he was attached to wasn't moving anytime soon, and without the pain in his arms stopping him he snapped the links of the cuffs by using his body weight as leverage. He barely had time to celebrate when Seth rushed back in. Dean kept his position, not letting it be known that he'd partially escaped.

Seth was wearing different clothes, which Dean found strange. "Ah, sorry it took so long, old friend." Seth was being patronizing now. "I had to wash up in a jiffy and change my outfit. Blood stains are so hard to get out."

Dean felt his entire body go cold. "What did you do?"

His former friend grinned at him, but there was no humor in this grin. Only malice and hate. "The bar really isn't that busy on Mondays is it?"

Dean felt something inside him snap. He didn't know if it was adrenaline, or if his body simply reacted on instinct, but the cuffs snapped open. Not feeling the pain of the tug, had allowed his body to use an unnatural show of force, and since the skin didn't tear and the bones didn't break it had always been his mind thinking that kept his body from being able to do it. He lunged at Seth who looked momentarily stunned as Dean caught him with a solid right hook to the jaw.

It sent Seth back a few feet into some boxes, but hew as up quicker than a flash and darting around the room. Dean could barely keep track of him and the only reason he wasn't already dead was because of The Authority's no kill order. Might as well take advantage of that fact. So, he felt some air move to his right and stuck a fist our to the left and watched Seth careen right into it.

Dean's vision was simply a blood red cloud of rage, as he endured hit after hit, Seth never thinking he'd get loose and not having a countermeasure other than killing him, which Dean thought would be his last resort. Seth took the clothesline poorly and skidded in to more boxes on the far side of the room. He groaned and tried to stand up, woozy, and Dean was on him before he could recover. He punched him over and over again, breaking his nose further, and possibly his jaw. The speedster couldn't run if he was never allowed to recover. Dean threw him into some heavy looking crates and stalked over. He grabbed Seth's head and put it on some nearby cinderblocks, ready to cave that weasel's head in.

Seth flailed, trying to get away, but a few more punches to the torso, simply had him fumbling his hands at his side. Dean raised his foot up high in the air, to end Seth. Seth shouted, holding up his hand. "Wait!"

He looked and Dean's entire body froze. In Seth's hand was a necklace. The one he'd given Renee… the bloodstains… NO!

Dean grabbed for the necklace and his fingers closed around it, and as he took it from Seth's grasp, he felt his leg get kicked out from under him and he landed hard on his back. He looked around only to find Seth gone from the area. He stood up and waited a moment in case of attack, but when he was only met in silence, he looked to his hand and saw that he had been successful getting the necklace back.

The reminder of Renee possibly being hurt spurred him on. He was about to leave the building when he remembered Roman. Seth said that Dean hadn't truly cared, but that was untrue. He cared about Roman getting home to his family. He cared about Roman no matter what. He shouldered the man on his shoulders and carried him out of the building.

Dean had never run so fast in his life. Despite the extra weight of Roman on his shoulders he had booked it straight back to the bar. Roman had begun to stir, but was slurring his words and unsteady on his feet when Dean had tried to place him down. He groaned as he finally turned the alley and saw the lights to Cactus Jack's still on. However, when he got closer, he could see that the open sign had been flipped to closed. That wasn't right. He pushed open the door and sat Roman by the wall, hoping that he'd be more cognizant in a few minutes. He needed to find his wife and his father.

He felt the dread in his heart continue to grow as he saw glasses scattered and smashed. He continued on, needing to find his family. It was only when he pushed open the swinging doors of the kitchen that he saw the blood. It was dark and thick on the floor, large pools of it on the ground and all over the walls. Dean's felt his body shake as he forced himself to look up. The first thing he narrowed in on within the pool of blood was the barbed wire baseball bat from Mick's old fighting days. He saw bits of flesh and hair on it. It was stained dark with blood. Dean let an unconscious whine in his throat as he snapped his head to the far corner of the room.

Mick was laying face down, blood leaking from what was once his head. He was unrecognizable. His arms were thrown out wide and limp at his side, like he'd spread them before being knocked to the ground and bashed over and over again. Dean took a step forward, leaned to the side and vomited. He'd never seen something so horrifying in his entire life. Tears stung his eyes, both involuntary from the vomiting as well as heart wrenching guilt and grief. He forced himself to take another step around the corner. He needed to see what Seth had taken from him.

Renee was in a little alcove, looking like she'd been shielded by Mick. Her fate was not as gruesome, but the open, still so very blue, eyes would haunt Dean's nightmares for years. Her face was mostly free of blood; the top and back of her head were a different story. There was nothing left of it. The wall behind her was stained red, like it had never been any other color. Dean fell to his knees, his stomach having nothing left to give and bringing his wife into his arms. He ignored the blood getting on him and simply held her, his hand, still clutching the necklace in it, came up to place it in the hollow of her throat where she usually wore it.

Dean watched in stunned silence as blood droplets appeared on her face, her eyes still gazing up at him. He shakily raised his hands, leaving the necklace where he placed it, and felt the skin under his eyes. His hand came away with his own blood. He couldn't get cut, or scraped, or scratched, but he could cry blood.

And that's how Roman found him an hour later. Renee still cradled in his arms, blood leaking from his eyes. He didn't let her go until the coroner arrived.

Dean stood there in a thrift store suit, the only one he owned to the funerals. He decided he'd have both on the same day, get it out of the way at the same time. He doesn't even remember the funeral. He only remembers watching them lower Mick, and then Renee's coffin into the ground and throwing the first piece of dirt on top of each of them. Roman had sidled up and threw the second handful in, his wife and daughter behind him doing the same. Roman had steered him away as the undertakers did their work filling the holes the rest of the way in.

"Thanks for being here Roman."

Roman nodded. "Nobody saw what Seth did coming. I came here to support you, but to also let you know that I'm joining the Sentinels."

Dean expected it. He really did, but it still hit him like a punch to the gut. He stayed silent and let Roman continue to talk. "They will hide my family away so they'll be safe, and I'll be able to do some good. You should come with me, Dean. We would be great assets, and we are already used to teaming up."

"I can't Roman. I want to run the bar for Mick. And I want Seth. I'm going to haunt him and the Authority forever." He gives Roman a look, and sees the way Roman's face falls by the slightest margin. He must look worse than he feels.

"I can't follow you down that path, Dean. I'm sorry." Dean watched as Roman began to turn. He stopped and tried for a smile. "I just wanted to let you know before the press conference later. Let me know how I look on TV."

Dean nodded and watched as Roman pulled his family through the small crowd of people and down the street. Dean let his feet carry him back to the bar, it was closed and the lights were shut off. The clean up crew had done a good job and the place looked like it did before the horror that happened here. It still smelled slightly of cleaning fluids, but Dean chose to ignore that. He pulled the long rectangular box onto the bar and opened it looking at the weapon that ended Mick's life as well of Renee's. He glared at it, deciding what he would do with it before picking it up, his hands barely shaking as he placed it back on the hooks where Mick had it. It wasn't bloody anymore having been cleaned and given back to Dean after it was classified as a regular break in and shoved to the side of the cop's case files. He didn't want them looking into it anyway. He'd use this to break every bone in Seth's body before caving in The Authority's skull.

He sat back down, looking at the papers strewn about on the bar top. All of the workers had quit in light of the murders. The only one who felt he could stay was Sami Calihan. Dean loved that man. But he needed to go through these applications and hire new bartenders and cooks other than Sami. He chuckled with some amusement as the first name on the pile was also named Sami. His last name was Zayn, and by the look of it, he'd be a good first hire. He took a quick peek at some of the other applications, running across names like: Dave and Jake Crist, Desmond Xavier, and Aaron Williams, before he felt his mind wandering. He'd do this later.

Dean flipped on the television in the corner and turned it to the channel he'd heard the press conference was going to be on and he came face to face with a buzzcut-haired man with a large nose. He had a nice suit on, it put Dean's to shame, and he was smiling behind several microphones. Dean knew who this was. He was the Sentinel's PR and government liaison, Hunter Hearst Helmsley. It was when he spoke that a chill went down Dean's spine. He'd recognize that voice anywhere now. It was The Authority, smirking into the camera as he announced the new member to the Sentinels, The Big Dog, Roman Reigns.

Dean knew that Roman could barely remember setting out that night let alone the voice of the man cloaked in shadows. Dean screamed in rage and took the bar stool he was sitting on and smashed it against the floor over and over again as the voice of the man who was responsible for ruining his life blared on the television.

The program was off and the remains of the chair scattered around the bar. He was going to take them down. He was going to take them all down. The Shield had failed. Maybe a Lunatic who wouldn't stay down could get the job done.

Elsewhere in the city…

Mae Young moved outside her small fortuneteller shop, picking up the mail before flipping the open sign on. She flipped through the useless bills, dodging through the damp shop that she owned. She passed under the dream catchers, the shelves with all of her healing crystals placed on display, and even by the skeletal remains of animals that were propped up.

She sat down at her table, her crystal ball already set up for her influx of customers later on in the day. Her tarot cards were also set up a little further down, making space for her to read when her hands finally grasped the newspaper. She flipped immediately to the obituaries and started looking for any former classmates or people she knew. Her eyes came to rest on the happy picture of a young blonde woman. Mae felt herself halt at the sight of the young woman, Renee Ambrose nee Young, according to the paper. Something sparked within her, and her face broke into a grin.

Mae felt herself begin to laugh. Her old frame shook with her chuckles and she pushed her seat back, already moving to her old trunk in the back. She continued to stare at the obituary of the young woman, survived by her husband and taken from the world too soon. She knelt down gingerly, her joints not what they used to be, and opened the old chest. She rumbled through it, not really looking because she would know the object by the feel of it though she hadn't even gazed upon it since… well, she couldn't remember the last time, which was a testament to how long it had been, especially considering she was over a millennia old.

"Your story is far from over, little girl." She pulled out the object, finally looking at it other than the paper. She gazed on the dusty old sheep mask, not used for years, maybe even decades or centuries. Its eyes seemed to follow Mae's and she felt her eyes flare with the power of the arcane in response to holding this relic. "Far from over."


	7. Epilogue

Becky sat there with her mouth hanging open; her tipsy status was the only thing that had stopped her emotions from getting carried away during the story. She was an angry and flirty drunk, not a crier. "This douchebag was in my apartment! I should have incinerated him for you!"

Dean chuckled humorlessly, his eyes glassy from the emotional parts of the story. "Yeah, that'd have been a nice present, but if possible, I'd like to do it myself. That's why I kept the bat after all."

She frowned and glanced at the bat, thinking of its once proud legacy tainted with the blood it had spilled. She watched Jeff reach across the bar and place a gentle hand on Dean's arm. "I'm sorry. You were there for me after my life fell apart, so I guess this explains why you understood me so well after what I went through. Thank you."

Dean shrugged. "We can't change the past, only shape the future. And if my tragedy leads to helping even one person then maybe it'll be worth it somehow. Or at least, maybe I won't be so angry all the time."

Becky bit her lip, giving a glance to Jeff who nodded. Becky being braver through all the alcohol she'd consumed so far thought she'd go for it. "Well, we are your team now, and ain't no cyborg, big nosed asswipe coming between us."

Dean chuckled, his face loosening with a small smile. Jeff cut her a calming glare before turning to dean. "While I wouldn't have said it like that, she's right. We have your back through thick and thin. Hell and back."

Dean grinned at them both. "You both are gonna make me cry over here."

She smirked, "Well you're a big softie, Ambrose. We've figured that out already. But, I think, if you wanted, we could maybe take a picture and put it up on the wall?"

Becky had tried to make her voice sound positive, even pleading, but it came out as a timid question in the end. She knew she was encroaching on unknown territory, but the approving glance she got from Jeff let her look Dean in the eye. He looked like he'd been surprised and didn't know how to feel about what Becky had said. Finally a small smile spread across his face and it was maybe the first time Becky had seen him fully smile.

"I actually think that'd be awesome. Take out your phone and let's get this done."

So when Becky walked in a week later and saw that a second frame had been placed beside the old one, showing her Dean and Jeff all smiling, the one she'd taken on her phone, she didn't even try to tamp down the warm feeling in her chest.

Elsewhere in the city…

Mae Young watched the trio of Becky, Jeff, and Dean fight in an alley against Sasha, Phil, and April with some amount of interest. This was only the second time these two groups had clashed with one another. Sasha and Becky's history always spurted them on to take each other to their limit. It seemed today that Becky's little trio won as Sasha pulled an injured Punk into an alley and quickly disappeared. Their target for the night, some arms dealer, still very much alive. That man was quickly knocked out by Dean and picked up to be dropped off at the police station.

It was interesting to see the man she had kept an eye out for since Renee's death seem so centered. When he began going solo he was always a bit of a lunatic about it. He threw himself into risky situations and probably cause more property damage then he meant to, and while he was still being reckless, as was his fighting style, he seemed happier and less inclined to go off the rails any time soon.

She could barely hear their conversation, but she caught Becky in all of her feisty enthusiasm say that she had to get home because she had to work at Baron's garage early the next day. Mae knew that the girl was only half lying. She'd more than likely return the apartment she now shared with Dean and shut he door tight so that she could get a few hours to herself to mourn having to fight her friend before she tired herself out with the crying and the anger and falling asleep for an early work day tomorrow.

She leaned away from the crystal ball she was using and tiredly rubbed her face. She had never felt her age more than these last few months. Being millennia old really had its drawbacks sometimes. Of course she knew everything in this city. All the names of the heroes and villains. All their secrets. She was well informed because of how long she'd lived and how'd long she'd had to polish her powers. This crystal ball trick was one of the easiest and she'd been able to learn what went on in the city's underworld as well as what went on in that little high rise that the Sentinels thought was so impregnable.

She pushed away from her chair and moved about her little store. It was closing time and she needed to lock up. She moved and flipped the open sign around before gazing up at the moon. It was full tonight and that realization made her perk up instantly. Seemed she'd have more to do tonight then spy on heroes and villains for their petty drama.

She made her way back over to the crystal ball and let her eyes and hand flare in arcane light. The mists swirled within the ball before clearing and showing her the inside of a garage. Sitting under a car, even this late at night was the shop's owner Baron Corbin. Mae had been watching him with great interest ever since she found out what family line he belonged to. Plus, she figured that she could have some entertainment, before she hastened up fate's plan a little bit. Maybe tonight is when she'd finally take action.

She watched as an alarm went off on the man's phone and made him immediately stop. He grabbed the phone to check the time and sighed. He placed his tools down and wandered over to a keypad. The sign on the door said office, but Mae had been watching him long enough that she wasn't fooled. He opened the door after punching the code in. Mae's vision blurred for a second before it refocused inside the room he went into. The padded walls of the room were reinforced by steel and the door was triple barred so that you could not get out. Mae knew that the mechanism that controlled it only released the lock after twelve hours.

She watched, never tiring of seeing the transformation. Watching Corbin become feral. His nails elongated into claws, his hair grew thick and wild, his bones shifted and his eyes slanted giving him every bit the appearance of a beast. A wolf. She watched the new Baron with amusement as it attempted to fight out of the room, this version of him, not caring about the curse or where it would lead him. How, if he didn't stop it, it'd put him in an early grave like his father, and his grandfather before that.

Mae felt her body shudder in pain and she gasped, holding on to the table. She couldn't wait any longer. She needed to set things in motion tonight or things would only get worse. She was old and would not be powerful enough to assist the heroes with what was coming.

She centered herself and focused in on the locking mechanism. She barely had to even think about it before the locks were undoing themselves and the number pad on the outside sparked and sputtered before dying. The next time Baron rammed his shoulder into the door it easily gave way. Mae watched him step foot outside and look around. She knew that the deaths this beast would cause would weigh on her conscience, but she'd made peace with that. Though she'd be lying if the feral, sadistic grin that coated the monsters face didn't send a chill up her spine, but this had to be done. At least that's what she told herself as she watched Baron rip a security guard of a bank in half before collecting the money for himself. Family curses could be oh so troublesome.

To be continued….


End file.
